


Little Girl Lost

by sablesheep



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Adorable kids being adorable, F/F, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sablesheep/pseuds/sablesheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vriska and Kanaya meet face-to-face for the first time after several months of talking online. It's uneventful. Except for the fact that it's pretty damn cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Girl Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Because Kanaya and Vriska are adorable together on so many levels and I really couldn't resist. Also, gotta make it up to the Serket/Maryam ship somehow.

Vriska will never forget the morning she finally met Kanaya. Sometimes she wants to, when she's glaring at her messages, appearing on the monitor of her computer like a battery of rain on the roof of her hive. Sometimes she wishes she'd never met her, just so she could go to bed without feeling guilty for once that someone's out there worrying about her.

But other days when she wakes up to her phone pinging and her screen flashing, she can't help but smile and set to replying. 

* * *

The first time Vriska speaks to her, it's in the course of a discussion thread on some forum, somewhere, about something so trivial that she can't even remember what it was. Something about paranormal creatures, probably, knowing Kanaya. 

Vriska had seen her chathandle a few times before, commenting here or there-- usually never anything too inciting or humorous, but occasionally she'd make quips or drive home points with such vindication that Vriska, alone in the darkened squalor of her living room, laughs out loud

But never anything that made her sit back and take notice with more than a fleeting burst of amusement. That is, until, Kanaya targets her.

She makes a sarcastic reply to something Vriska said and Vriska snipes back and soon they've both been banned for taking over the entirety of a thread with a personal feud that dissolves into attacks on each other's grammar. 

She bullies one of her contacts into helping her track down Kanaya's e-mail address and soon they're talking in earnest; Vriska not saying much of anything beyond what she usually advertises online, but Kanaya divulging once more.

When Vriska calls her on it, teasing her for making it so easy to get stalked, Kanaya simply tells her:

"I Am Lonely. And I Rather Like You. I Like To Think We Are Friends."

It's the first time someone's called her their friend in a very long time. And whether or not Kanaya had calculated it, Vriska starts to break down-- just a little.

To _test_ her. To see if she's worthy, she tells herself, but really, she just likes to stare at the "GrimAuliatrix is typing" text appear at the bottom of the screen. She tells her about her lusus. She tells her about Terezi and Eridan and Kanaya laughs at her and tells her she's going to have a problem on her hands, juggling a sea dweller and a want to-be lawyer and Vriska tells her about how she's interested in starting FLARPing and how Terezi thinks she's found another team to play with.

Kanaya listens to her and talks to her and always seems to know the right thing to say, even when Vriska doesn't want to hear it. It does her good, all the same, even when she blocks Kanaya for eight days at a time. 

Eventually she gets up the courage to say, one day, before another blocking rampage, "Sometimes people like you 8etter if you didn't 8ully them into doing what you think is 8est all the time!!!!!!!!"

(She signs off before she can see Kanaya's response which is simply: "You Are Calling Me The Bully?")

When they speak again, however, Kanaya's the one who apologizes. Apologizes, sincerely, and tells her 'I know I shouldn't meddle, but I worry about you so' and it's probably the first time either of them acknowledge what this bout of internet camaraderie is quickly turning into.

Terezi gets tired of hearing about her after about six weeks of this and finally throws her hands in the air and says: "Why don't you just marry her then!" and Vriska snarls at her but doesn't say anything in reply. 

* * *

Kanaya opens the door. She looks tired, which isn't at all surprising because Vriska knows about her odd sleeping patterns. But she still looks incredibly elegant, in a pair of button down silk pajamas that fit her perfectly and a quilted dressing gown draped over her shoulders. 

She's elegant and refined and well-groomed-- everything Vriska isn't and knows she never will be. Even though she's clearly just woken up she seems as if she's perfectly prepared for this, like half-mangled semi-feral trolls show up on her doorstep every night. 

Kanaya looks every inch the well-bred young lady of society Vriska's pretty sure she herself is meant to be, considering her blood status, and it makes her uncomfortably aware of how far she's allowed herself to fall since she got old enough to hunt. She can't remember the last time she's seen the inside of a shower, she hasn't brushed her hair in a sweep and her clothes are starting to get more than a little ragged. 

It scares her to see how beautiful and put-together her internet friend is because people on the internet aren't supposed to look this _nice_ , they're supposed to be strangers just as desperate as she is--

Kanaya blinks at Vriska very slowly, her doll-like eyelashes moving up and down in a steady pattern. In the space of time it takes her eyes to sweep over her, Vriska's already planned her escape route and is about to run when she smiles a little and says: 

"Well. You're exactly what I expected."

Vriska looks at her, blankly, and slouches over a little more, her fingers questing through her pockets for something that's not there. 

Then, without warning, Kanaya has thrown her arms around her and is holding her so close Vriska can feel her shoulder blades being crushed into her back. She can't pull her hands out to hug her back, but she wants to, she _realllllllly_ wants to. 

Kanaya smells like flowers, soap and clean laundry. Vriska buries her face into her neck and huffs at her until she's almost choking on the smell of her. She smells somehow _right_

"You'd better come in," Kanaya murmurs, steeping out of the doorway of her hive so Vriska can slip inside. She hesitates and Kanaya makes a noise of irritation, grabbing her by her neck and tugging, hard. 

Her home is like nothing she's ever seen. It's bright and rich and almost intoxicating in how many colors are hitting her all at once. Everything in her living room is meticulously organized, except for a corner that's covered in heaps of fabric, tangled together. 

Vriska doesn't know what to say, for once; words won't come out of her mouth and suddenly she just wants to start crying. She's never wanted to cry before, except for the first time she realized that someone was going to have to feed her lusus and no one was going to volunteer.

"Honestly, Vriska," Kanaya says with a huff as if this has happened a thousand and eight times before. "You're going to worry me half to death one of these days, you know."

"Sorry." She mutters, self-consciously trying to fix her hair by shoving it behind her ears. It doesn't stay and quite stubbornly falls back into her face. "I didn't mean to--"

Didn't mean to what? Show up uninvited? Worry her? Look like shit? 

"Sit _down_ ," Kanaya says, firmly, shoving her down onto a couch that Vriska knows no one in their right mind should let her sit on considering how filthy she is. She's covered in blood and mud and possibly someone's entrails-- it's not a good look but normally it wouldn't bother her--

"I'm sorry," She says again but Kanaya isn't in the room anymore. Vriska takes the opportunity to attempt to make herself presentable. Her hands won't stop shaking, her body feels like she's been electrocuted--

Kanaya pads back into the room. She's got a towel, white and spotless, over her shoulder, and in her hands are a first aid kit and a bowl full of water. Vriska watches her, anxiously, unsure of what Kanaya's planning on doing.

But when it comes down to it, she's never felt so completely at ease, so completely whole as she does when Kanaya sinks down onto the couch beside her and begins to fret. Her lusus is in the background, chattering anxiously, and Vriska snarls at it but Kanaya scolds her for it.

"She's just telling me to be careful with head wounds," Kanaya says as she opens her first aid kit and starts to rifle through it. "Don't be mean."

"Hrmph." Vriska grunts in response, trying to squirm away when she smells the familiar burn of rubbing alcohol.

Kanaya gives her a tight lipped stare that bodes absolutely no argument and then Vriska finds herself submitting to her ministrations. It's the first time in her life anyone has tended to her; Terezi throwing a roll of bandages at her head and telling her to clean herself up somehow lacks the charm of a pair of gentle hands using a wad of cotton to blot the blood from her gash or the oddly emotional feeling that comes along with Kanaya smoothing a bandage across her head. 

She doesn't say a word as she wipes the worst of the blood off of her face, arms and neck; she simply cleans her up and binds her wounds. When she's finished she rises without a word once more, and pads off into the other room.

After a moment of hesitation, Vriska follows her. She shuffles after Kanaya like a lonely puppy and when she finds her, she's rinsing the bowl out in her kitchen sink. She gives Vriska a smile that's so bright and luminous that, almost immediately, Vriska has thrown her arms around her. She doesn't want to start hugging her, not ever, not until someone tears her away.

Kanaya stops what she's doing and hugs her back. It's even better now that Vriska can hold her and appreciate the feel of having another living body huddled up in her embrace. 

"I can't believe you're here," Kanaya says, breathlessly, and Vriska realizes the dampness on the back of her shirt is Kanaya crying and it makes her horribly anxious. She pulls away, instinctively, and begins to fret.

She grabs the nearest thing she can find, the bloodstained towel Kanaya used to wipe her down, and wipes at her eyes. She does a terrible job of it but it's okay because Kanaya giggles and Vriska giggles and they throw their arms around one another again and this time, slump to the floor. 

"You're perfect," Vriska breathes, ignoring how sappy it is in favor of watching Kanaya's eyes sparkle with the praise.

" _You're_ perfect," Kanaya responds and Vriska dismisses her with a snort. 

She nuzzles Kanaya's neck. This is more physical contact than she's had in-- well-- ever-- and she's already beginning to crave the brush of Kanaya's hands against her skin like nothing she's ever craved before. "I'm _not_ at all perfect." She mumbles, sniffling. 

"You need a bit of a wash, but I'm sure there's a diamond under all of that rough." Kanaya says with a warm smile and Vriska relaxes a little more.

* * *

Kanaya makes her dinner, an honest to god dinner with utensils and a plate and more than one food group. She even cleans up afterward, insisting that Vriska stay where she is at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in her hands. 

When she's finished putting away the single plate, knife and fork, Kanaya dries her hands on her dressing gown. 

She's still staring at Vriska with eyes that marvel over every inch of her. Vriska's not sure what it means, but for some reason she doesn't mind the thought of Kanaya judging her. 

"What happened?"

"Went out with Terezi." Vriska says, carefully, glaring down at her teabag. She has absolutely no idea what she's meant to do with the rest of the tea-- she thinks she must have read it, somewhere, but the answer won't come time mind--

"If your lusus is fed, you must be free to stay for a couple of days." Kanaya says, carefully, and Vriska watches the expression in her eyes become guarded. 

Vriska wants to say, 'fuck no, I'm not staying with you bitch' or 'I have better things to do'. But instead her face cracks into an unwilling smile and she says, quietly: "No fucking duh, Kanaya."

Kanaya beams. 

And then, just as quickly, snaps: "If you're going to use that kind of language, I'm going to start trying bows in your hair while you sleep."

* * *

She's got Vriska in the bathtub within a half hour, sitting on the edge of the tub while Vriska languishes in the water. Kanaya's soap smells like lavender and Vriska snorts at this and tells her:

"Wow, seriously Kanaya?" She rolls her eyes, but buries her nose into it all the same. " _Lavender_?"

Kanaya seems a little flustered but defends her soap almost immediately, insisting that she makes it out of the flowers grown in her herb garden and Vriska laughs, loudly.

 

Her hair is carefully washed by Kanaya's very capable hands, incredibly careful to avoid the bandages on her face. When she's clean to Kanaya's standards, she passes her a towel and says, softly:

"I'll give you your privacy."

"Yeah, _Kanaya_ ," She teases, with a wicked curl to her voice. "Don't want to see me naked."

"It seems a little forward, Vriska," Kanaya replies, tiredly, opening the bathroom door. She leaves it propped open while she goes and searches through her bedroom. Vriska dries herself surprisingly languidly, considering she's fully exposed to a mostly unknown troll in the other room. But it's _Kanaya_ , her brain repeats, over and over, like this is a fact that should mean something and she's just too stupid to get it.

When Kanaya returns she has an oversized nightshirt on her hands, sewn from an emerald green flannel. 

"I'm not wearing green." Vriska tells her, without waiting to be asked to put it on. "That's stupid."

"Well, it's this or nothing since I already burned your clothes."

She puts the nightshirt on. The sleeves need to be rolled up and she has to fasten every single button to keep from exposing herself to Kanaya every time she moves. It's big on her, but comfortable and warm.

They spend the night curled up together in a giant fort Vriska insists they construct out of Kanaya's furniture and the seemingly endless supply of fabric bolts. They curl up beneath a canopy of brightly colored damask, Vriska letting Kanaya pillow her head on her stomach and Kanaya affectionately telling her how ridiculous her hair looks and constantly trying to steal her glasses, in order to clean them. 

The talking goes on for hours. Kanaya can't stop reaching up and stroking her face, nor can she strop repeating that she's so glad to see her. It almost sounds like they've met before with the way she phrases things. 

Vriska ignores this and pretends, like Kanaya does, that this is just one of a hundred visits between each other's houses. When they finally fall asleep, they're curled around each other in a pile of limbs. 

* * *

Her visit lasts for three days. They don't run out of things to talk about; there's an endless number of books to be discussed, people to gossip about and complaints for Kanaya to make about her appearance. 

They spend an entire morning draped on Kanaya's couch, reading and then the entire afternoon arguing about what they've read, which seems a little silly since they were reading completely different novels, but neither of them notice that.

It's the most happy Vriska has been in sweeps and when it finally comes time for her to leave, it feels like she's doing something terribly wrong to tell Kanaya she has to go.

Kanaya understands, giving her a reassuring smile that only Kanaya could ever give. She walks her to the door, laden down with food and clean clothing and a few books that she thinks Vriska simply _must_ read.

Vriska accepts the supplies without protest or thanks; while it's pity, it's pity from _Kanaya_ and it doesn't really count. She can't say why. 

"I'm going to miss you." Kanaya mumbles as they stand in her doorway. Vriska nods, mutely, and doesn't really know what to say. "I'm really going to miss you. Promise you'll come home soon?"

"Home?"

"Back to me." Kanaya amends, flushing a vibrant green that makes Vriska want to drop everything and fawn over her. "I meant back to me. My home."

"I dunno. We'll see--"

" _Don't_ say that." Kanaya snaps and it's the first time the whole weekend she sounds angry. "Don't say that, Vriska."

That's when she does drop everything, setting her box full of Kanaya-approved supplies on her doorstep. She throws her arms around her and hugs her as tightly as she can and once more she feels perfect and complete and, for once, at ease with the world. 

"Don't worry." She grumbles, loudly, rolling her eyes in a false gesture of bravado. "I'll be back before you miss me."

"I'll miss you every second I'm gone." Kanaya promises, still clinging to her. Vriska extracts herself as gently as she can. Kanaya doesn't want to let her go, but she does, eventually. 

"I'll call you the second I'm home," Vriska promises, even though she knows it's a lie. "

Kanaya sniffles. She sniffles, loudly, and that's when Vriska throws her arms around her once more and, quite clumsily, kisses her cheek. 

"You are, without a dou8t, the worst, most 8lackimailing Moirail ever," Vriska grumbles, flushing. "I gotta go, Kan, I can't stay--"

"I know, I know, I know," She says in a rush, her face bright and suddenly comforted. "But I'm allowed to worry after my first Moirail aren't I?"

And that's when Vriska decides screw it all, her lusus can go hungry for a few days. She’s got someone relying on her now and, well, that’s kinda nice. Just this once though. Never going to happen again.


End file.
